Color of meaning: Ramble with the Lady
Color of sound.
Or should that be the sound of color?
Blue jays squawked down the alley as Lady and I rambled off this morning.
Then one sounded right above us high in the bur oaks a street over.
Don't always hear blue jays in the morning.
Certainly did this morning.
I always equate the deep blue I associate with blue jays with squawking.
It's just there inside my head.
Coilor of money.
It's not green, it's black as sin.
Naturally, at least naturally for me, that takes me to ``Color of Money.'' (Hello, Paul Newman. Tom Cruise gets no hello.)
Color of meaning.
In the wide world of the wild world, color means change.
For a few days, I noticed sunflowers at the telephone pole in the yard with the feeders across from the bus barn downtown.
I just assumed it was a fake one put there for some color. But this morning I looked at it more closely and realized it was sunflowers already blooming.
I loved the yellow of the sunflowers against the yellow of the school buses in the background.
It made my morning anyway.
And it was made even better when a rabbit bolted down the alley when I stood up from taking the photo.
Changes come with the savage rains of June (we were in that narrow band that had some 20 inches for the month).
As we crossed the side rail separating the town from the wildness of the town pond, I noticed somebody put in ditches through the gravel road on both sides of the side rail. They very effectively drained the water that had pooled up for the past week weeks on the west side of the side rail.
Bullfrogs croaked on both old clay pits. But there was not a single Canada goose anywhere that I could see. I suspect the fuss of putting in the pipe flushed them elsewhere.
Two days of drying and other puddles are reducing. But the sun has also brought a massive bloom of something on both pits. Not sure if that is a good thing. Not sure if that means I can try frog fishing.
Drying out. It's a theme.
Back on the edge of town, dryers at the grain elevators shook the morning. Not sure what would be drying already, but something is.
Back home, the riot of color in my wife's front flower garden caught my eye: It's the featured photo at the top. In front are black-eyed Susans building to tiger lilies with a smattering of evening primrose, pansies and delphinium strewn in.
All the rain has been good for her flowers. There are trade-offs in life.
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